Normal
by Sapphire1112
Summary: One shot. Set after the cupboard encounter... I do not own the characters. Strachamp.


**Connie**

 _The first time had been a mistake – at least that's what Connie Beauchamp told herself. She could not – would not let it happen again. Sam Strachan didn't love her – didn't want her. She had a daughter with him – but he was a womaniser and their relationship stretched no further. No matter how many time he said he wanted the three of them to be a family, Connie didn't believe him – but that was ok. She didn't love him either._

 _So why did this keep happening? - and why did she feel jealous every time she caught him flirting with someone else._

 **Sam**

 _It wasn't a mistake. She could tell him that – and herself over and over again, but he didn't believe it and he didn't believe she did either. She was more than Grace's mother and he hated it when other men looked at her in the wrong way. She was his and only his and she was perfect for him. Sam was a flirt by nature, but it never meant anything to him, unless it was Connie, but he loved the fact that she was clearly jealous and trying not to show it and he manipulated certain situations to give him an excuse to get her alone in that cupboard for another argument._

 _He loved their meetings. He never took her in there with the intention of that level intimacy – but that the way it kept ending up._

Sam flirting _outrageously_ with one or more of the nurses – that's how it always started. Then out of jealousy, Connie found something he'd done wrong – even on a good day, she could find _something_ to pull him up on. She dragged him into her office for a dressing down – but then Charlie, or Duffy – or someone would have to interrupt with some emergency and the tensions were left simmering for later.

It was always Sam who initiated the next part. He'd keep an eye on Connie and when she walked down _that_ corridor – which she often had to, he followed and pulled her roughly into the store cupboard for an argument. What happened after was pretty much inevitable by that point and the more it happened – the shorter the arguments became – though there was still usually a slap involved. Eventually, they seemed to miss out the arguments altogether and skip straight to the inevitable end result – at least that's how it had been the last couple of times.

He had pulled her in there, once again, now with the slightly shifted intention of starting something else rather than an an argument, but as they started off kissing heatedly, in place of the argument they weren't having, Connie broke away and leaned against him.

"What wrong?" Sam whispered as her head leaned against his chin – her arms wrapped loosely around his waist.

"I can't do this any more...I'm sorry." She muttered.

"What do you mean?" He asked quietly.

"A _quickie in a cupboard_ , Sam. It's not exactly _romantic_ is it?!" She pointed out.

"You don't _normally_ complain!" He retorted flippantly, but she just sighed.

"Con?" He was concerned now. "I can't read your mind, sweetheart – you have to tell me honestly what you're feeling."

She sighed again. "I just feel like a shag is all you're after. I mean - _t_ _his_ happens – and then you go off and flirt with someone else, and then we're back here again. I just want something _normal_."

"Is that _really_ what you think I'm like, Con?" Sam asked, distressed that she seemed to think he was _using_ her.

"No, I don't, Sam." She whispered. "But you wanted me to be honest – and that's how it _feels_...I'm sorry." She hugged him closer for a few seconds – as though she was afraid of never being that close to him again, then she stroked her hands down his chest, before gently pushing him away and leaving him stood on his own in the cupboard.

 **Late that evening...**

Connie lay in bed, cold and alone – it wasn't as if she _normally_ had company at night, but somehow, ending her impromptu meetings with Sam in the daytime, left a gaping hole and as sleep seldom visited her anyway these days, she felt lonelier than ever. Maybe it would have been better to let him carry on ' using' her – no matter how cheap or rubbish it made her feel. It had been _something_. The trouble was that she had started hoping it was more than it was. She wanted him to feel something for her – in fact, she longed for it, _for him._ But every time she was left feeling more empty when he went off to flirt with someone else.

It probably wouldn't have bothered her, seeing him flirt with someone else – that was the way Sam Strachan was and Connie accepted that – she wouldn't have changed him for the world, but she had a niggling feeling of insecurity about whether he _truly_ cared about her as more than Grace's mother – and no matter how she tried she just couldn't shake it off. She wasn't sure, but maybe she'd been hoping that he would go out of his way to prove her insecurities wrong – unlikely, given that she had basically told him to leave her alone. She sighed and closed her eyes. She had better try harder to sleep, she decided – or she'd end up cutting her efforts short as usual and just getting up anyway. Lack of sleep was not a good thing to work on

Connie felt a rush of cool air as someone lifted the quilt and the bed shook slightly as Sam climbed in next to her.

"Hi honey" he whispered.

"Hi" She responded, hardly daring to believe he was there. "What are you _doing_ here?"

"Showing you that I don't just want sex!" he replied. "That's what you wanted to know, isn't it, darling? - for us to be 'normal'."

"Mm-hm." she paused. "Where's Grace?"

"Grace is staying over at a friend's for a sleepover." He explained.

Connie was still a bit sceptical – what if he'd just found himself at a lose end. "What – and you couldn't think of anywhere _better_ to be? You felt you 'should' be here."

Sam sighed. "Con, have you _ever_ know me to do _anything_ I don't want to do?!"

"No." She muttered.

"I'm here because I _want_ to be here. I want to be with _you_. Ok?"

"mm, ok." she sighed happily.

"I'll try not to flirt with anyone if it upsets you, ok? I want to make this work as much as you do." He whispered.

"No, it's ok." She whispered back. "I don't _mind_ you flirting, Sam – I don't want to change who you are – as long as I know that it's me you _really_ want, I don't mind."

Sam draped his arm around her and kissed her head. "It's _just_ you, Connie Beauchamp – it's _always_ been just you!"


End file.
